


John Connor Ain't Got Nothing on This

by glorious_spoon



Series: Tumblr/Twitter Prompt Fic [29]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Background Relationships, Bickering, Friendship, Gen, Rescue, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 14:10:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18262925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_spoon/pseuds/glorious_spoon
Summary: “You’re going to die,” Dustin said, sounding more judgmental than worried.





	John Connor Ain't Got Nothing on This

**Author's Note:**

> For a tumblr ask from **sternenblumen** , who asked for fic based on the prompt "Are you sure that's the decision you want to make?"

“I’m leaving,” Steve announced to the room at large, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder. It clanked heavily against his legs, and he made a face, set it down, and unzipped it to remove the bear trap, which kind of ruined the drama of the moment and, more importantly, gave Nancy time to look up from her research and start making an annoyed face at him. Jonathan kept his head down, ostensibly absorbed in the stack of water-yellowed pages but more likely just trying to avoid the oncoming argument. Or something. It was hard to tell what was going on in his head at the best of times, and considering that his mom and Will were unaccounted for, this wasn’t the best of times.

“What do you mean you’re _leaving?_ ”

“I mean I’m leaving. Outta here. Vamoose. Hasta la vista, baby.”

“Have you been letting Dustin pick out the movies for pizza night again?” Lucas asked, from where he was leaning over the workbench with an arc welder and, Steve was pretty sure, way less than the minimum recommended protection, although at least he had a helmet on. He opened his mouth to say something as Lucas flipped the faceplate up, then shut it again. Lucas was an adult, at least technically, and Steve’s tendency toward mother-henning a bunch of reckless college students was most of what had got him in this mess to start with. “I thought we agreed we needed to expand his horizons, not—”

“ _We_ didn’t agree to anything,” Steve said. “You nerds just came up with, like, a list of the world’s greatest direct-to-video movies, and since I’m the one who always ends up buying the pizza—”

“We’re broke college students, Steve,” Dustin pointed out from the other side of the workbench. He wasn’t even wearing a helmet, and his bare hands were perilously close to the last scorch mark Lucas had left on the battered wooden surface. The smell of scorched metal hung in the air. It was almost enough to overpower the rotting stink of the last zombie they’d fried and then tossed out the barricaded back door into the hallway. _Almost._ “Also, Terminator II is a work of classic cinematic genius—”

“It was a hack job,” Lucas retorted, sounding outraged. He flipped the face mask down and started the welder again. Dustin rolled his eyes and leaned back out of the way.

“He has no taste.”

“This is the important conversation right now?” Steve said. He could hear the note of hysteria in his voice, but there didn’t seem to be anything he could do to mute it. “Never mind. I mean it, I’m out of here. This is not working, somebody needs to go for help, I’m volunteering. Before I actually murder one of you and do the zombies’ jobs for them.”

“Don’t be stupid, Steve,” Nancy said. “You won’t last two hours out there alone.”

“They’re not zombies,” Dustin added.

“They’re dead bodies who are walking around trying to eat people,” Steve retorted. “Close enough!”

“It is not close enough. It’s a blurry etymological—”

“I mean it,” Steve interrupted loudly. He kicked the bear trap out of the way and slung his bat over his shoulder. There was a sawed off shotgun in the bag, too, but the bat was actually probably more useful. He wasn’t much of a marksman at the best of times, and at least a baseball bat didn’t run out of ammo. “There are cars down in the parking lot. I can hotwire one, and—”

“Do you even know how to hotwire a car?”

“I’ll figure it out,” Steve snapped. “Okay? Jesus.”

“You’re going to die,” Dustin said, sounding more judgmental than worried.

Steve glared at him, stung. “Hey, thanks a lot for the vote of confidence, man.”

“He’s right,” Nancy added, setting the binder on her lap aside and standing up. Jonathan looked up as well, his eyes flicking to Steve’s face, then away. There was still blood in his hair and it was kind of freaking Steve out, even though it hadn’t come from any of them. “Steve, come on. At least wait until Hopper gets back—”

“ _If_ he gets back.” That was something Steve didn’t really want to think about. Hopper was basically the Terminator in the person of a grumpy middle-aged police chief. There was no way he was just going to _not come back_ , but he’d gone out for supplies four hours ago and nobody had been able to raise him on the radio since noon.

Not thinking about it.

“Look,” he said. “We don’t know how far the contagion spreads. It could just be the campus.”

“Or it could be the entire city,” Nancy said. “Or—”

She cut herself off before she could say any more, but they all knew what she was thinking. _Or it could be everywhere._

Yeah, he wasn’t thinking about that at all. He definitely wasn’t thinking about his parents, about Mike and Eleven and Will, Max and Mrs. Byers, and—

\--everyone else, basically.

“Look, if you guys have any better ideas, I’m all ears,” he started, and before he could say anything else, something heavy crashed into the door. Steve jolted back, swearing, and Nancy surged to her feet with her gun in hand. Lucas swung around, brandishing the arc welder like a weapon, and there was a low muttering from the other side of the door. Another thud, and then the lock clicked, the chain loosened, and the door swung open to reveal the Chief, hulking and spattered with gore, a massive duffel bag over his shoulder and a machete in one hand.

“Hi,” he said, sounding impatient. “Little help here?”

“We thought you were dead,” Steve said stupidly.

“Steve thought you were dead,” Nancy corrected, but she looked relieved. “We couldn’t raise you.”

“Yeah, lost the radio,” Hopper grunted, heaving the duffel off his shoulder. “Harrington, give me a hand here. Now. I had to haul this shit all over creation, I’d like to get it inside before more of ‘em show up.”

“Steve says he’s leaving,” Dustin piped up, like the traitor that he was.

“Right,” Hopper said, and shoved a crate of what turned out to be water bottles into Steve’s arms. He’d rigged up a kind of sled out of plastic sheeting and rope to haul what looked like the entirety of the dining hall stock, plus two twenty-pound propane tanks and a few guns. Trust Hopper to find what had to be the only weaponry on campus. “Great. You sure that’s the decision you want to make, Harrington?”

“I thought you were _dead_ ,” Steve protested. “I was going to get help.”

“No need,” Hopper said, and hauled the rest of his loot through the door, slamming it shut behind him.

“No need?” That was Jonathan, and his voice was sharp. “What do you mean, no need?”

“I mean the cavalry’s coming,” Hopper said, and his face softened a little. “I managed to get an outside line at the administrative offices. Jane’s on her way.”

Jonathan straightened up slowly. Every muscle in his body seemed wound tense, his face pale, his eyes burning. “My mom? Will?”

“They’re okay, kid.” His tone was almost gentle, for him. “Everybody’s fine.”

“Oh,” Jonathan said, and swayed a little. Nancy put a hand on his shoulder, and Dustin swore under his breath and sank back down into his seat as Lucas flicked the welder off, lifting the faceplate on his helmet again. His grimy face looked suddenly very young.

Steve let out a slow breath, then stooped to set the bat down, and then the duffel bag. “Okay,” he said. He felt a little dizzy. “Okay.”

“Steve,” Nancy said, her arm still curled around Jonathan, who looked on the verge of hyperventilating. “Get over here.”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve said again, and went.


End file.
